Stories
Poem of the Week
Now the long freight of autumn goes smoking out of the land.
Classics
The sunrise does not blaze fiercely but spreads in a gentle flush.
Story of the Week
Maybe she’s gay. I wonder if she masturbates when I’m out of the room.
Poetry
what happens in all these villages after we ride through them?
Fiction
“One of my genetic gifts, and don’t you want to know what the other one is?”
Poem of the Week
Vultures liked to perch on the austere ledge outside my window.
iStories
I’m not here to remember a friend, but to say good-bye to a part of myself.
Nonfiction
The boat’s one of the most flagrant symbols capitalism ever spawned.
Poetry
It seems too late for them to change, to find a way to survive awake.
Spring Contest Winners
I looked out at the busy world, and I saw nothing but its ugly bones.
Fiction
Pete gazes into his mother’s soul and finds a piece of smoldering coal.
Poem of the Week
We pried the last of the pallid squid from their crevices and ate them.
Story of the Week
She transfigured into a swallow in flight, or a hippo in the rainy season.
Story of the Week
In your postpartum state, your best hope is to bluff your way through.
Poem of the Week
He phones from across the country after lying in the grass with another.
Fiction
If a friend’s family is persecuted, call Sinn Fein on that number.
Poetry
All these barns with their busted spidery limbs strewn over the lupine.
Love Story Contest
She has wings of rouge on her cheekbones, her beak blood red.
Fall Contest Winners
He left the Meijer in the dark of the April evening and drove to the Embassy.
Poem of the Week
Bees may not be bought. Our children may never know apples.
Poetry
It is music opening and closing, Italia mia, on Bleecker, ciao, Antonio.
Story of the Week
When his father was out cold he tied him up, roping his arms to his sides.
Narrative Outloud
The author reads her story, a finalist in the Winter 2013 Story Contest.
Poem of the Week
may your harvest fit in a sack may none of your apples be sweet
